It’s a foggy fall afternoon which is leaking into the evening swiftly. It has been like this for days and I seem to take some solace in days such as these.

Words and pictures alternate flooding my heart and head as every street I wander down is a picture pulled from a movie. I look up and rain illuminated against the street lamp’s light appears to fall in comic book sheets, black but with light brightening it’s edges.

I am out picking up supplies for my Friday night shoot, which includes a hopeful bottle of Como Sur, organic Cab Sav. Out in front of the Cold Beer and Wine Store, is a character right out of a graphic novel. I swear the beaten leather trench he is wearing qualifies as a cape. The water beads and pours down it. I catch the glint in his weathered eyes and he twists on a heel and is gone down a hallway leading into blackness. I wonder after the adventures he may be heading towards.

I stare for a moment before being jolted back into action. Friday’s can sometimes be strangely surreal. Or at least this particularly foggy, rainy one is.

Instead of uncorking and pouring myself a long glass of thick red wine I brew up a French press of dark coffee and begin dragging gear up into my studio. The caffeine percolates in my veins bringing me into my second and third wind. It’s 9pm and I am just starting to get lights set up. Now I am about to get my hair and makeup taken care of.

This summer during my time in Cumberland I had my first exposure to Emily Haines of Metric while shooting the Big Time Out for the Metropolitan Magazine. Her latest single “Help, I’m Alive” is running amuck in my system and tonight I’ve downloaded the Itunes Essential collection of her work.

While applying makeup, steaming clothing, straightening hair.. I am falling mildly in love with Metric. Emily seems to have a lovely disdain for life which I enjoy. By the time Emily and I land up in Studio, it is near or past midnight. I’ve been wanting to play creatively and occasionally I forget I cannot actually clone myself. I get behind the lens and begin mentally directing myself only to realize I have to leave the lens to do so.

Damn. This is why my personal shoots take so long. By the time I am back in my little abode and ready to call it a night it’s around 5am. I have enjoyed all the tinkering with softboxes and stands, listening to music and getting lost in my own light filled land.

These nights I am dreaming of my days. The frames just wait in me wanting to get out. And I need to shoot…. That doesn’t change or die away, it intensifies with everyday that passes.

I eye up my bottle of wine which will await another day. Then I slowly sink into my soft bed and await the ferry which will carry me into the dream world.

---note---
my picture "Studio Girl" posted was fruit of this labor